


baby animals

by pipsqueakparker (lafbaeyette)



Series: fictober 2020 [16]
Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Ficlet, Ficlet Collection, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-16
Updated: 2020-10-16
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:48:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27047503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lafbaeyette/pseuds/pipsqueakparker
Summary: I push through some of the branches, find Baz crouched next to something on the ground. Is he going to let me watch him drink?“It’s hurt,” he says, and I look at the ground in front of him. A little red ball of fur, black paws and a little wet nose. I lean down next to him and see the gash on the back of the baby fox’s leg.
Relationships: Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow
Series: fictober 2020 [16]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1949911
Comments: 12
Kudos: 73





	baby animals

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Fool of a Book Wyrm (Lafeli85)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lafeli85/gifts).



> day 16: baby animals
> 
> this ficlet is dedicated to [Fool of a Book Wyrm](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lafeli85/pseuds/Fool%20of%20a%20Book%20Wyrm) \- Liz is hilarious and lovely and came up with the ending bants that I centered the fic on. 
> 
> ILY Liz, I hope I've done this idea justice for you.

**SIMON**

Baz is letting me hunt with him.

Well, not hunt _with_ him, really. But he’s letting me go out with him. Into the woods behind his family house.

I know how hard it is for him to let me in on this part of him, the whole vampire thing. He’s trying.

I look over to see the sun catch in his dark hair. He’s beautiful, strong.

He’s uncomfortable, a bit. I can tell by the tension in his shoulders, the way he’s clenching his jaw. His fingers are stiff in my hand. I squeeze them, gently.

A silent thank you, for trusting me.

He looks back at me, for just a moment, and I catch the gleam in his eye. That’s the way he only looks at me, or a particularly juicy rare steak.

I’m tempted to kiss him. (I’m _always_ tempted to kiss him.)

Then we hear a rustling, off to our right, and Baz stops in his tracks. His mouth already looks fuller, his fangs have dropped and are pushing against his lips.

“Stay here,” he whispers, lisping around his fangs. (I catch a glimpse of them when he speaks. They’re just as wicked as when I first saw them, one day I’ll get him to let me look even closer.)

Baz follows the rustling sound, disappearing into the trees. I can barely see him through the branches.

A moment later I hear his voice. “Snow. Come here.”

I push through some of the branches, find him crouched next to something on the ground. _Is he going to let me watch him drink?_

“It’s hurt,” he says, and I look at the ground in front of him. A little reddish-brown ball of fur, black paws and a little wet nose. I lean down next to him and see the gash on the back of the baby fox’s leg.

“Oh,” I reach out, then think better of it and scan the area. “Do you think the mother’s around?”

Baz nods his head to our right, and I see another, bigger patch of red fur. Motionless.

“Traps.” He scowls. “We must have crossed off of my family’s property.”

“Well,” I frown back at the injured fox. “Makes an easy meal?”

Baz levels me with a look, unamused. “I don’t eat predators.”

He reaches out to the fox, rubs the baby’s back gently until it lifts its little head up to look at us. The fox sniffs at his hand, and Baz lets it. His movements are slow, purposeful, and I watch in awe as he quickly earns the fox’s trust and scoops it up into his arms.

“What are you doing?” I ask.

“We’ve got to help him,” he says. “He just needs a little help, someone to care for him.”

I’m fairly sure I melt in that moment, watch Baz cradle a little baby fox in his arms and stand. He carries it all the way back to Pitch Manor, and there I help him wash up the poor thing and gently clean its wound and wrap its leg.

While he’s brushing through some of its matted fur, I look up what baby foxes eat. We give it some fruit for now, Baz watches it fondly as it eats out of his hand.

“Should we name him?” I ask as the baby takes another grape out of Baz’s fingers. Baz looks up at me, a small smile on his face.

“Did you have something in mind?”

I smirk, as well as I can anyway, and say, “We should call him Dinner.”

Baz gives me that same unamused look from earlier, then rolls his eyes. “Absolutely not.”

I sit next to him, wrapping my arms around his waist and resting my cheek on his shoulder. He feeds the fox a little piece of mango.

“We’ll call him Juice Box then,” I suggest. I hear him snort, then feel him nose into my curls.

“But, darling, that’s your nickname,” he whispers, then presses a kiss to the top of my head as I laugh.

“Fine then.” I lift my head to look at him, and he kisses my cheek. “He’ll be _Juice Box Jr._ ”

Baz barks out a laugh and shakes his head.

“You’re positively ridiculous, Simon.”

The name JB Jr. stuck.

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr: [@pipsqueakparker](https://pipsqueakparker.tumblr.com/)


End file.
